


Don't Tell

by jpicker13



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4489137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jpicker13/pseuds/jpicker13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky have spent years trying to find each other, and when they finally do it might be too late.</p>
<p>The first few chapters are pre-serum, but the rest are post. </p>
<p>This work is on going so it may not be finished when you read it. Comments and critiques are welcome!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I.

"Come on Buck do I have to?"

Steve really didn't want to go on another double date. Bucky had taken him on 4 this week, and he was  
tired of rejection.

"You'll like this dame I promise. I told her all about you."

The girls never looked at Steve like they did Bucky, but Steve didn't mind: Steve was always looking at  
Bucky too.

"Only the good stuff right?"

"Only the good stuff."

Bucky looked down at his scrawny friend all knees and elbows and smiled. That smile always did  
Steve in.

"Alright I'll go, but only because you begged me to."

Bucky slapped Steve on the shoulder with a firm hand and started walking towards the door. Steve  
grabbed his tan summer coat and walked slowly after him; wishing he could just lay down and sleep.

"Come on Steve," Bucky yelled up "you never leave a fine lady waiting!"

II.

This night had gone like all of the others; with Steve standing around while both girls giggled at Bucky's  
jokes. They had taken the girls to a carnival in Central Park, and the air was warm and smelled of  
popcorn. He wasn't surprised; Bucky was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. Steve, on the other  
hand, was about a head shorter and 100 pounds lighter than his pal. Bucky always said that Steve would  
hit a growth spurt and be as tall as a tree someday. He'd been saying that since they were 13. Bucky also  
had that charm that could woo any lady from Yonkers to Staten Island.

"Buck... I'm not feeling so hot. I think I'm gonna turn in for the night."

"What’s wrong Stevie? You alright?"

"Yeah I just... I'm... It was really nice to meet you Lucy."

She gave him a smile that radiated pity and kissed him on the cheek.

"It was nice meeting you too Steve. Feel better."

She quickly turned back to Bucky who was still staring at Steve.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah Buck," Steve said "I'm just swell."

Steve turned on his heel and walked away ask briskly as he could without drawing attention to himself.  
As he turned a corner away from the carnival he could still feel Bucky's eyes on the back of his head.

III.

The walk was a good distance from where they were staying, but Steve could manage it if he took his  
time. He didn't want to have an asthma attack without Bucky around; he was the only one who could calm  
Steve down. Once, when Steve had fallen to the ground wheezing, Bucky had gotten right down with and  
started rubbing his back and talking in his ear. The next day he knocked a kid out for calling them queers  
because of it. Everyone knew that Bucky would go to the ends of the Earth for Steve.

As he walked he heard the sounds of the Carnival rides fade away as they were replaced by silence. The  
closer he got to their little 2nd floor apartment the duller the lights became until it was only streetlamps.  
Steve liked silence because it let him think. At the moment he was thinking about Bucky. Ever since  
Bucky started dragging Steve on these double dates, Steve had been dreaming of going on a date with just  
him. They were thoughts and feelings that were foreign to him, and that would result in trouble if they  
ever got out. They were Steve's secrets and his alone. But they were beautiful none the less.

When he was near their apartment Steve felt a feeling in his gut that he got every so often, and his  
thoughts shifted from Bucky's smile to Bucky fresh out of the shower with a towel around his waist.  
Bucky always did look better soaking wet his hair would stick out in all different directions and the  
water would roll down his chest in beads. As he reached the front door he could feel the friction inside his  
jeans.

These thoughts always made him feel terrible like he was breaking the moral code but he pushed that  
feeling to the back of his head as he walked into their shared room. It wasn't much; two beds, a laundry  
basket, a bathroom, and a radio sitting on an old dresser that was smooth to the touch from years of use.  
Bucky wasn't very organized, so Steve would always start picking up clothes that were strewn across the  
floor and throwing them in the hamper.

But today Steve hesitated after picking up one of Bucky's shirts. He felt his briefs sliding against the skin  
in his pants and his heart beat speeding up. He drove the heel of his palm against his jeans for some relief  
as he walked over to his bed and sat.

"What am I doing..."

Steve felt the guilt welling up inside of him, but that didn't stop him from lifting Bucky's shirt to his face  
and breathing in deeply. It smelled just like him; like musk and motor oil and those cinnamon cookies that  
Bucky loved. Steve laid back and unbutton his pants. He reached in slowly between his jeans and briefs,  
and started rubbing the fabric as he moaned lightly. He tried to keep quiet in case Bucky came home  
early, but the moans escaped him as he continued stroke himself.

IV.

Bucky had driven the girls home and planted a kiss on his date's cheek. He had wanted more, but he  
couldn't help but worry about Steve. That was all he ever did since they were kids: worry. He reached the  
apartment about ten minutes after Steve. He entered quietly just in case Steve was asleep. When Bucky  
stepped through the front door he heard a noise and some shuffling from the bedroom.

"Steve must be sleeping," he whispered to himself. "He left that dame to sleep?"

Bucky took off his hat and jacket hanging them on a coat rack and walked quietly towards their room.  
As he reached the door he heard the noise more clearly this time and stopped dead in his tracks. It was  
definitely Steve. He had heard these noises once before and had quickly left before Steve knew. But this  
time the noises were a bit different. Bucky stopped for just a moment to make sure Steve wasn't having an  
attack. He pressed his ear against the door.

"Bu...ck"

Bucky froze completely. Had Steve just... no... definitely not.

"Buck... oh Buck"

He did. Steve definitely said Buck. Bucky didn't move for what felt like an eternity listening to his best  
friend moan his name.

"Bucky... Buck... oh Buuu..."

When his climax came, Bucky heard Steve say his name a little louder than before as his arm thumped  
onto the pillow. Within a few minutes Steve was breathing as he did when he slept, and Bucky opened the  
door.

V.

Bucky knew that Steve did this, he did it pretty often himself, but normally he cleaned up and made it  
seem like nothing had happened. This time was different. Steve was laying on his side in nothing but his  
briefs. His body looked smaller than ever and his golden hair was a sweaty mess as he clutched Bucky's  
shirt in his arms. He stared at Steve, taking everything in. Bucky didn't know what to say, how to react, or  
where to go from here. As he continued to survey his sleeping friend he outlined Steve's body with his  
eyes. Steve was lying on his side like a crescent moon which only made him look smaller. He was even  
more fragile with no clothes on, pale from the light of the moon coming in through their window, and his  
knees and elbows were bony but relaxed.

Bucky's eyes wandered further down and could make "it" out against his leg. It was big for his size,  
bigger than average in fact, and Bucky felt a flash of heat hit his chest. What the hell was he doing  
looking at Steve like this? And yet Steve had just been moaning his name to get off. Steve stirred and  
Bucky saw his eyes flutter open.

VI.

"Hey Buck." Steve said in a hushedsleepy voice.

"Steve..."

"How'd the rest of the date go? Did you kiss her?"

"No... Well sorta... Steve you..." He stopped midsentence and stared at the shirt in Steve's hands. Bucky  
saw it happen. The wave of realization that hit Steve like a brick.

"Bucky. I... uh..."

They just stared at each other. Steve was still clutching Bucky's shirt, while Bucky tried to will his mind  
away from the thing in Steve's pants. The thing Steve was stroking while thinking of Bucky. The way  
Steve looked right now sweaty, disheveled, and small and how terrified he looked. The fact that his  
best friend had been thinking of him when pleasure hit.

"Bucky... it's not what it looks like I swear... I didn't even realize this was your shir"

"Steve your shirts are 3 sizes smaller than mine."

"I was tired and I"

"I heard you."

Steve just stared. His eyes widened allowing more blue to show. What was he supposed to say to his best  
friend? That he thought about him when he touched himself? That he watched him sleep some nights?  
That he'd get in the shower right after Bucky because he needed to get the image of Bucky's half naked  
body out of his head in private?

"Bucky I..."

"Steve what the hell? I thought you liked girls? And I come back here and all I hear is you moaning my"

Bucky's voice faltered before he could finish the sentence.  
Steve stood up from the bed with Bucky's shirt still in hand and straightened up. As Bucky looked over  
his frail body he wondered why Steve would feel this way. Bucky liked girls. He'd been with girls and  
even thought he loved one once. He didn't think about Steve the way he thought about girls. And anyhow  
he'd probably break Steve if they ever did anything. Not that they would. James Buchanan Barnes did not  
like men.

Neither did Steve. He just liked Bucky.

"I'm... gonna take a shower"

Bucky didn't move as Steve walked past him with all of the height he could muster and dropped his  
shirt in the hamper before going into the bathroom.

VII.

Bucky sat down on his bed and listened to the sound the shower running; his head in his hands. Normally  
he could hear Steve singing in the shower, and he had a beautiful voice. It was high but strong and warm.  
Bucky loved it when Steve sang, but right now it was silent.

"What the hell Steve..." Bucky said to himself.

Steve stood in the shower and let the water run over him; his hands bracing against the tile. Bucky knew  
now. He didn't know the extent of Steve's feelings, but he knew enough to break their relationship. Steve  
didn't want to lose his best friend because he couldn't control his thoughts.  
He stepped out of the shower and walked out into their room. Bucky jolted up from his bed but Steve just  
walked by him without a word.

"Steve." He said with a nervous and slightly angry tone.

"I'm going to bed Buck. You should do the same."

"No Steve I think we need to tal"

"Buck." Steve had stopped without turning to look at Bucky his hands in fists at his sides. "Go. To.  
Sleep."

They didn't say another word to each other that night, but neither slept much.


	2. Chapter 2

I.

The next few weeks were brutal for Bucky. Steve barely talked to him, but when he did it was that cold, rough sort of speech that Steve only used when he was angry. Very angry.

"Steve?"

"What?"

"I... could you pass me my shirt?" Bucky had been walking on eggshells since everything happened, but it wasn't fair.

Steve looked down at the rough wooden table and two chairs and sighed - picking up Bucky's shirt. He tensed and gritted his teeth when he realized what shirt he was holding. Bucky's blue button down from... that day. The fabric between Steve's fingers was thick and warm, but had the itch of a poor man's clothes. Clothes that had been beaten clean too often for too long. Steve allowed himself a moment to remember that smell - musk and oil and cinnamon cookies - and felt guilt.

"Steve..." Steve chucked the shirt at Bucky without a second look - causing him to recoil out of surprise rather than pain. "Dammit Steve! You have NO right to be mad at me. You did this! You're the Queer!"  
He covered his mouth in surprise - not believing what he had said. The look Steve had given him was one Bucky had hoped to never cause. His jaw had tightened and he dropped his hands to his sides. Bucky saw the glisten form over Steve's eyes just before he turned. Steve had walked out of the apartment before Bucky could say another word.

II.

He rubbed his face as he went down the steps in twos and only allowed tears to flow when he was safely around the corner in an alley.

"Oh buck... I'm so sorry." He wheezed - Steve wasn't used to moving that quickly. "I'm the queer. I'm the broken one, and I'm losing my friend because of it."

Steve thought he had no right to be mad, but he was. He was mad at himself for lying to Buck for so long. He was mad at Buck for not feeling the same. He had no right, he told himself. There was something wrong with him. He was a problem.

"I have no right... to be mad at him." he choked the words out and dropped his head down between his knees. "I won't be mad at him anymore. I'm the broken one."

III.

Their days went back to normal too quickly for Bucky's liking. How could this whole thing have passed without them even talking. And if this was tearing up Steve like it was Bucky, then they were both ticking time bombs. Bucky spent hours thinking over everything. It isn't okay he thought to himself being like that is wrong. And I'm no queer.

The word left a sour taste in his mouth. Queer. His best friend couldn't be queer. And Bucky knew HE wasn't. Definitely not. He loved girls; the way they looked, smelled, tasted... But he liked the way Steve looked too - all knees and elbows - and the way he smelled. Steve looked the way flowers smell, delicate and fragile. His soft blonde hair always mussed and smelling like soap and Steve. Like that smell unique to each person - it was something he'd never smelled before. Once Bucky dreamed about rubbing his face in it...

"Oh... Jesus..." Bucky shook his head ran his fingers through his hair.

I'm not queer. Bucky had to tell himself that everyday. Its wrong. I don't like men. No, but I like Steve. He gritted his teeth as thoughts flooded his mind. I'm. No. Queer.

And so his days went by like that. Work, bar, home, Steve, Not queer, sleep. Work, bar, home, Steve, Not queer, sleep. Work, bar, home, Steve, Not queer, sleep. It was an endless cycle driving Bucky mad, but he thought he could manage it. He told himself Not queer and that was it. If he willed it then it would be. Probably.

IV.

When Bucky got back to their apartment after a long night of drinking he went straight to their room and stripped off his clothes. The cool night air flowed in through the window and encased his body. Bucky had missed the autumn air, and was grateful that it was returning. While changing into his night pants he heard a shatter coming from the living room and practically sprinted out to see what had happened.  
When Bucky opened the door he was met with Steve wheezing on the floor with a broken glass beside him. His frail body - covered only by boxers - was hunched over on all fours with one arm grasping the seat of a chair.

"Steve what the hell!" Bucky had ran to Steve's side and fallen to his knees. "What happened? Dammit Steve talk to me!"

Steve gave a sidelong glance towards Buck without saying a word. He grabbed Steve's sides, laid him on the floor - and forgetting everything that had happened between them - began rubbing his back like always.

"It's alright Steve. Everything will be okay," He whispered "Don't worry. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

Steve's breathing slowed but was still interrupted by random wheezing. Bucky's brow was furrowed in concentration as he sat beside his sickly friend rubbing his back. He'd gained some weight from eating more and working out and his shoulders and back weren't as bony as usual. Bucky knew this was because Steve wanted to enlist, but even with the extra weight Steve wasn't much more than a hundred pounds. He'd never get accepted.

"Buck?" His attention was snapped back, "You think I'm alright to get up? I got dizzy and fell trying to get some water but I'm feelin' alright now."

"Nah Steve I think you better stay there for a while. I'll get you a blanket and some water."

Bucky got up to get Steve a drink, but when he got back Steve was on his feet grasping the back of the chair.

"Steve... I told you to relax. Five minutes ago you couldn't breath and you think it's a good idea to be standing?"

Steve didn't answer, instead he walked over to Bucky and wrapped his arms around him.

"Thank you for... being my friend." Steve said in barely a whisper.

Bucky instinctively hugged back, but froze when he realized just how close they were. Neither had a shirt on, so their skin was pressed together - Bucky's heat pressed against Steve's small, cool chest. Their hips were pressed together as well. Bucky could feel Steve's hips pressed into him - they fit together like puzzle pieces. He could feel himself getting hard in his pants and pushed Steve away.

"Buck...?" Steve was taken aback by Bucky's sudden hostility.

"Just stay away from me..."

"Buck what the hell?"

Bucky's face started heating up and he clenched his jaw. He looked down at himself embarrassed, and refused to look up - covering himself as best he could.

"Shit.." Bucky was so quietly Steve couldn't hear him.

Steve noticed Bucky covering himself and breathed in sharply. "Oh... oh Buck..."

Bucky looked into Steve's eyes - nothing but rage showing. "Damn you, you filthy queer! Damn you for making me feel like this. It's wrong! It's unnatural! I'd be better off dead than like this!"  
Steve started walking back towards him - hands outstretched in a cautionary way.  
"You don't mean that Buck," The words hurt, but Steve knew Bucky was just confused. "It's alright, I can see how you really feel. I won't say a word..."

Steve touched Bucky's arms gently and Bucky tensed but didn't back away.

"Let me help you..." Steve closed his arms around Bucky's torso and pressed against him again.

Bucky breathed in deeply and put his arms around Steve's shoulders. He wasn't sure what to do now that Steve had seen his dilemma, but holding his best friend felt good.

"Will you let me help you?" Steve said.

Bucky just nodded and waited for Steve to start talking, but instead was met with Steve grinding their hips together. A sound escaped Bucky that he'd never made with any dame. He tightened his grip on Steve who had frozen to see Bucky's reaction. When Bucky didn't move Steve started grinding against him again slowly.

"Steve st-" Bucky moaned before he could finish his sentence.

"Just... just let me. It'll feel good I promise."

Steve dropped his hands down to Bucky's hips and started grinding harder and in circles. Bucky was sweating and knew if Steve kept doing this that he'd cum all over his undershorts. But the feeling was so good that Bucky couldn't do much more than hold onto Steve as he pushed him against the table.

"Sit on the table." Steve looked up at Bucky, stopping momentarily so he could sit.

Bucky didn't say a word as he sat back on the low table; Steve's hips reached just above the table top. He started thrusting against Bucky again, this time sliding up his shaft and slamming their thighs together. Steve had his eyes closed and gripped Bucky's legs - moaning lightly.

"Steve... I'm gonna... I mean... I..."

"Just let it go Buck. I want you to."

Bucky pressed his upper body into Steve and felt himself shooting in his pants. No girl had every made him cum like that, and his belly was hot like coals. Steve Held him up and humped into him a few more times before moaning Bucky's name and loosening his grip on Bucky's thighs.

"Damn Buck..." Steve was wheezing again, but he felt good.

Bucky allowed himself to embrace the warmth for only a second before snapping back into reality. He pushed Steve back hard and slid off the table with a disgusted look on his face.  
V.

"What the hell Buck!" Steve changed to a defensive stance and gritted his teeth.

"You fuckin' queer. Don't take advantage of me! I'm not your little play thing."

Steve's eyes widened in confusion. "Stop it Buck... I was helping y-"

"You were helping yourself. Getting off on me like that... Don't use our friendship for yourself!"

"But you enjoyed it! You came all over your shorts! You were moaning and holding me! You-"

"Shut up!" Bucky tensed up and started walking angrily towards Steve. "I didn't fucking like it. My body was reacting to FRICTION! I didn't get off on YOU! I'm not queer!"

Steve was suddenly more pissed off than before. "Yeah? Well tell your dick then because it obviously thinks you're gay!"

Steve went flying back when Bucky's fist made contact with his jaw.

"Fuck you! I'm not queer!" Bucky climbed on Steve and started pounding at his face and chest. It was all Steve could do to protect his face with his forearms.

"I didn't enjoy it!" Steve whimpered at the pain.

"I didn't want it!"

"I'm not queer!"*Crack* 

Steve cried out in pain and grasped his side - not caring about his face anymore. His side was already turning purple when Bucky realized what he'd done. He rolled off of Steve but kept his distance, not wanting to hurt his friend further. Steve felt tears welling in his eyes and falling down his face - pooling in his ears. He rocked back and forth and tried to lessen the pain with small whimpers and grunts.

"Shit... You need to see a doctor..." Steve didn't respond and Bucky jumped up to dial the phone.

"Hello, doctor Craston? Yeah, my friend got into a fight and has a broken rib, can I bring him to you? I don't care how much it costs, please just help!" Bucky hung up the phone and grabbed new clothes for Steve and himself.

He quickly changed himself, then stripped off Steve's boxers - his cum still sticking to his legs - and slid new pants on him. Bucky didn't bother putting a shirt on Steve, and instead grabbed a blanket and carried Steve out the door and around the corner to Doctor Cranston's home.

"It's gonna be alright Steve. I'm not gonna let you die. Doctor C. will fix you right up I swear it."

Steve writhed in pain in Bucky's arms for another minute before passing out.


	3. Chapter 3

I.

Bucky Cried. He didn't just tear up like when the girl he thought loved him left, and he didn't just sniffle the way he did when his parents died - he let go and fell apart. It was messy and loud and rough. His cheeks had reddened to the shade of summer apples, and his eyes were puffy and wet. He wiped at his nose with a clenched sleeve and rubbed his fingers over his face.

"James?" Doctor Cranston walked into the room and put a comforting hand on Bucky's shoulder. "He'll be okay, son. He doesn't seem to be suffering from any internal bleeding and the swelling in his face is subsiding."

Bucky bit his bottom lip and shook his head. He couldn't believe what he had done to the one person he swore on his life to protect. They were in one of the rooms of Doctor Cranston's home office, and Steve was laying before him covered in bandages with stitches across the back of his jaw. His left eye was a dark shade of purple, and he hadn't woken up for 2 days - this worried Bucky no matter how much he trusted the doctor.

"When do you think he'll wake up?" Bucky looked up through glistening eyelashes and pursed his lips.

"I told you already James," The doctor spoke softly and knelt down to match Bucky's eye level. "He's been through a lot, and his isn't exactly in peak physical condition. He needs time for his body to heal. You should go home and get some rest."

The doctor was probably right. Bucky hadn't slept since he burst through Doctor Cranston's door a sniveling mess with a limp Steve in his arms.

"You're right... I need some rest. I'm going for my evaluation tomorrow for the army."

"That's fantastic James." the doctor said, standing up. "You don't want to look exhausted, although I think you'd need to be a lot worse than tired to be denied. They need fit young men like you over there and I doubt that there is a shortage of spaces."

Bucky looked at Steve somberly, "It's always been Steve's dream to enlist..."

Doctor Cranston looked over and Steve and shook his head. "That boy won't be joining the army anytime soon. Even after he recovers he still has a list of health problems a mile long. He'd be denied on his asthma alone."

Bucky nodded and turned his head back to Steve. "I shouldn't have let this happen to him..."

The doctor looked down and flipped through papers on a clip board. "Then why did you do it?"

Bucky looked up in surprise and his eyes widened in fear. "What..."

"You walked in here carrying Steve unconscious with tears in your eyes and bloody knuckles." 

Bucky looked down and realized he still had Steve's blood splattered on his hands and shirt. "I was in fights with friends when I was younger, but when I won I walked them home and left them on the couch. You carried him here in the rain."

Bucky couldn't remember rain. All he could remember was the way Steve looked with blood covering his face. Though he could vaguely remember being damp and cold.

"You really hurt him, but you seem like you care about him more than anything. Whatever is going on with you boys... you need to sort it out."

"Nothing is going on!" Bucky turned suddenly defensive. "I care about him more than anything! I've taken care of him for years!"

Doctor Cranston raised an eyebrow. "I know, son. That's what I'm saying. I've never met two boys that care about each other so much. I knew you loved him since you were twelve carrying Steven in here like you did two days ago."

"I'm no queer!" Bucky had stood defiantly and puffed his chest out.

"I never said you were." Doctor Cranston stood the same way Bucky had, but towered over him. Bucky may have been fit, but he was still a boy - just shy of twenty - who still had some growing to do. Doctor Cranston was a man with years showing in the bags beneath his eyes.

"You love that boy James. I don't know what kind of love it is, but that isn't for me to judge." His body relaxed and he laid his hand back on Bucky's shoulder - leaning his head to the side slightly and softening his face. "Now go home, please. I'll send a nurse when he's awake."

Bucky stood looking at Steve for what felt like days before finally turning, giving a small nod towards the doctor, and walking out.

II.

He has three broken ribs, a fractured collar bone, a broken nose, and a deep laceration along his jawline.

How is he recovering?

Well enough. He didn't need surgery, and we did an easy cross stitch on the cut.

When will he be ready for the program?

Soon enough Abraham. Soon enough. The boy's been through a lot and is still recovering.

Steve's eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to look at the two doctors standing over him. As the haze faded from his eyes he recognized Doctor Erskine - the man who promised him a spot in the army.

"Hello Steven." Doctor Erskine's thick accent was warm in Steve's ear. "I see you're doing well. Are you healing alright?"

Steve pushed himself up and winced at the pain in his ribs. "I'm doing alright I guess." lie

"Well that's good. We'll be leaving for Boot camp in two weeks. I expect you to be in peak physical condition by the."

Steve flashed a smile and shook his head. "Doc I haven't ever been in peak physical condition, but I promise I'll try my best. Two weeks huh? Why so soon?"

"Well, Steven, it would have been sooner, but you got yourself into a fight." Steve fliched at the thought as emotions came swirling back into his consciousness.

"Why can't I leave now? There are hospitals at boot camp aren't there? I could recover there and be right where I need to be. Laying in a hospital bed is the exact opposite of what I want." Steve lifted his chin defiantly and stared into the eyes of the two doctors.

"You know what Steven," Doctor Erksine sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. "That is exactly the kind of commitment we've been looking for."

III.

Within a few hours Steve is being loaded into the back of a car and prepped for a 6 hour drive to base. His last look at the downtrodden neighborhood was quickly blocked by a screen of upturned dust, and he had a gut feeling that he wouldn't be seeing it for a long while. Steve said a silent goodbye to his home - trying his hardest to leave Bucky out of it. He wasn't sure if he was ready to say goodbye to him just yet.


	4. Chapter 4

I.

Steve sat back on his bunk and sighed, stretching his fingers and examining their length. His skin was smooth and taut, and his forearms rippled with the movement. These little things had become so noticeable after the serum; Steve could feel every inch of his body tighten and relax. He liked it. Being so aware of his healthy body reminded him of the fortune he came into with the doctor (God rest his soul) and his serum. The only problem with the serum was that his mind had been affected as well; every memory could suddenly be pulled back into focus with ease. Unfortunately for Steve, his recent struggle with Bucky had caused a lot of bad memories to come flooding in.

His worst memory of Bucky - besides the most recent - happened when they were both fourteen. Steve's parents had already died, and Bucky had been going through a stage of sexual obsession. He was with a girl every other night, and if he couldn't find one he released his sexual frustration in other ways. One night, while Steve was out looking for scrap metal, Bucky had brought a girl home with him. His mother had gone out for the first night in a very long time, so she wasn't expected home for a while. After his scrapping Steve was meant to be out on a date with Janine - a dame that Bucky picked up for him - who was very disappointed that Steve wasn't Bucky. The date had lasted less than an hour before she had made up some excuse to run off. 

Steve didn't mind much honestly. He was much more excited to go back home to Buck.  
Bucky's mother's house was warm and welcoming - even if it was one of the smallest and poorest homes in the neighborhood. Mrs. Barnes had kept it clean and comfortable, and the fireplace was roaring when Steve stepped into the front door. He pulled his shoes off and unwrapped the ratty scarf hanging around his neck. With his toes on the worn wood he wiggled them happily. The whole house felt comfortable, and more like home than most places.

He left his ear muffs on as well. Quiet. Steve loved the quiet - he allowed it to encase him. After he stayed like that for a moment - feeling the warmth from the fire, enjoying the silence - he should have taken his ear muffs off. If he had taken them off, he would have hear the lightest of moans and shushes. He would have heard the bed creaking and the shallow breaths. But he didn't - so he couldn't avoid what he saw. He probably could have guess what would happen - Mrs. Barnes was out and he was supposed to be gone for a while.

Her body was smooth and curved as she lay on her stomach gripping the sheets. The curve of her breast created the slightest indent beneath her, and a light sheen of sweat made her body shine. Steve would have seen all of that if he wasn't staring at Bucky. Steve had seen Bucky naked plenty of times, but never like this. Never grunting and thrusting his hips into some poor girl who had no idea what she had gotten herself into. His body was just as smooth as hers - still at the stage between the lankiness of a pre-teen and the muscles of puberty - and it rolled with every thrust. Steve was mesmerized by his tantalizing movements. He could have watched them all night, but the girl let out a screech when she looked up at him.

"What the fuck Steve?"

"You said he wouldn't be here! Now he's seen me naked!" she shrieked.

"He wasn't even look'n at you!"

"What…?"

Steve saw the fear rising in Bucky's eyes, and the disgust in hers.

"Is your buddy some kinda queer or something? Cause I'm not fucking some queer lover!"

"Stevie ain't no queer! You take that back or I swear on my mother I'll throw you out in nothing but your skin!"

Steve had already taken a few steps back, and was now contemplating taking off at a sprint towards the door. But he didn't want to seem suspicious, so he willed himself to stand straight and speak.

"No ma'am I'm not queer," Steve said "and I'll just leave you to your business."

Steve had turned on his heels and hightailed it right out of the apartment. As he was leaving he could hear whispers of "I told you he ain't queer," and "Are you sure? He looks it", and within a minute he heard shrieks and saw the young lady practically fall out of the front door in nothing but her undergarments. She yelled a slur of profanities and turned away from the door as Bucky slammed it.

"Uh.. ma'am?" Steve approached her like a wild animal. He was slow and deliberate so as not to spook her.

"Sorry little man but I'm not interested..."

Steve blushed, "No I… I was just going to offer you my coat."

The girl looked confused for a moment, but eventually softened her expression and accepted his jacket.

"You may be scrawny, but you're a much bigger man than Bucky." She kissed him on the cheek and turned to leave with his jacket around her shoulders.

When he got back inside he was planning to chew Bucky out, but instead he just looked at him sitting at the kitchen table with a disappointed glance and went into their room.

II.

The way Bucky spit out the word queer like it was venom rocked Steve to the core. He had planned for so long to ask him for advice about his feelings, but now he wasn't so sure. Steve had known there was something off about him since he showed a bit more interest in Father Jonathan in catholic school than he should have, but that was a sin. Steve had always tried to uphold his beliefs, but this was something that he had eventually given into. He knew he was in love with Bucky by the time he was 15.

"Are you ready to go Captain?"

Steve looked up at a young girl smiling back at him. They were about to perform for yet another division that cared more about the dancing girls than his speech.

"I'm coming Jess. And I'm not really a captain."

She just nodded sympathetically and left.


	5. Chapter 5

I.

“Let’s hear it for Captain America!”

Bucky Couldn’t believe what he was saying. The last time he saw Steve was in his dreams, and he was still a scrawny five-foot-nothin’ punk from Brooklyn. This Steve didn’t even seem real. He was a good inch or two taller than Bucky now, and he looked… healthy. A healthy Steve, hell must have frozen over.

II.

“So… you’re not sick anymore?” Bucky looked over Steve’s 6’ 2” frame. “Not even a little?”

“Not even a little Buck. I’m fit as a fiddle.” 

Even now all Bucky worried about was Steve, except instead of asthma attacks it was bullets. 

“So I guess you don’t need me to take care of you anymore huh?”

Steve just smiled, “I’ll always need you to take care of me Buck.”

Steve was always saying shit like that. That he needed Bucky, that everything Steve was doing couldn’t happen without him. Acting like the world revolved around Bucky sharp shooting Nazis so Steve could save the day. Steve acted like Bucky was the hero when in reality Bucky was the dark to Steve’s light. Steve saved lives while Bucky took them. Steve let prisoners live when Bucky would have sprayed their brains across the concrete.

“Yeah okay Stevie.”

Everything was… awkward. The way Steve laid his arm lazily across Bucky’s shoulders, or the way they slept - huddled together for warmth like they used to - it all made Bucky’s stomach lurch. It was like they were wrapped in this blanket of war. Bucky pulled it over his head like a shield from the queer monster living under his bed. Every bullet from his barrel was shooting away his deepest darkest fear: that he needed Steve Rogers like a glass of water on a hot day. A tall blonde glass of water with a stomach his momma could use as a washboard.

“Hey Cap!” 

Dugan shouted from across the campsite. Steve just looked at Bucky and shrugged, then started crawling his way out of their tent. 

“Go ahead fearless leader. I’ll be waiting here when you get back.”

“You sound like my gal,” Steve winked. “How sweet of you honey pie.”

Bucky just slugged him on the shoulder and leaned back. “Whatever you say punk.”

Bucky just laid on his balled up sheet they called a blanket and smirked. It was probably the map Hydra had planted for Bucky to “find”. Whatever they had done to him in that lab, it made him… different. He was euphoric half the time, and the other half was filled with agonizing guilt and cold sweats. The scariest part of it all was that Bucky could feel euphoria overtaking the guilt. He had a mission now though, something he couldn’t fight even if he tried. Captain hotpants had to think he was dead.

“Maybe they’ll give me superpowers like you Steve… imagine the sex.”


End file.
